


god's spare change

by worry



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: Magnus slides a file folder, bright yellow, across the table. Raphael stares at it, stares at his entire future, packed neatly between two thick slips of paper. There's no going back now, there's absolutely no way he can say no. Why would he say no? All that he ever wanted was the ability to protect, to save. Now he has it, and he'sscared.How pathetic."Go on," Magnus says. "Open it."Raphael does, follows Magnus' orders and opens the folder. It reads:JACE WAYLAND.He looks—what's the right word for this situation?Pretentious.





	

He wasn't born an angel.

 

No one is _born_ an angel. Angels are born from suffering, born from humans with thick, haunting lives and stories. He thinks it's ironic; you suffer in a human life only to become holy and watch more suffering, an endless cycle of pain. The others tell him that there is a lesson involved, a time-loop kind of punishment; pray for an escape and you're blessed with one, the highest kind of blessing, the most beautiful kind of blessing, carved out of the bones and ribcage of God himself. The punishment is erasure from Earth, from all memories, in an attempt to make the mortal world, sick and decaying, _better._

 

No one is born an angel. Raphael still isn't sure if that's good or bad. 

 

(He can't change the past. That's only for the higher-ups, of course.)

 

If he was flesh and bone instead of energy and grace, his body would be shaking, his heart would be beating. Raphael remembers that—

 

He's waiting for the rest of them—the _other_ guardians—to meet him and give Raphael his very very  _very first_ assignment, the person that he will watch over and protect until they pass away, until they join Raphael in Heaven. 

 

He spent decades (in his time, still on a human clock, still  _human_ ) preparing for this day. They make you go through training, enter your mind and implant holy, saving knowledge. And now he's waiting, nervous and scared, to do this until the universe ends and Raphael is ripped out of existence.

 

Angels aren't supposed to be terrified. This is the most terrifying thing that Raphael has ever experienced.

 

And—and  _then:_

 

**"R͙̪͍̳̪̻ ̧̘ͅA̼̱̟͡ ͈̘P ̜H̭͓̮̣̀ ̤̤̱̟̲̻͢A͚̹̻̤͖͡ ͖͚̟̼̞E̻͔̩̞ ̞̱̫͈L͝,̨̣͉̳̪,"**

says a voice behind him, a loud boom shaking his surroundings.

 

"Yes?"

 

He turns—it's Meliorn, wearing his armor. "Come with me," he says, voice normal but shadowed in boredom. "Magnus has your assignment."

 

Raphael shoves his hands into the deep pockets of his jacket, and follows.

 

* * *

 

 

"We went through a lot of files, Raphael," says Magnus, gesturing for him to sit. "A  _lot_ of files, just to find you the perfect match. You're special, you know."

 

"Okay," Raphael says, and nothing more. He sits down across from Magnus at the end of the long, thin meeting table, so frail-looking that Raphael thinks it might break apart any moment, and wouldn't  _that_ be lucky. He's not ready. He's  _not._ Raphael, like the wooden table, is so frail that he thinks he will break apart any moment. Any moment now. Just any moment.

 

Magnus slides a file folder, bright yellow, across the table. Raphael stares at it, stares at his entire future, packed neatly between two thick slips of paper. There's no going back now, there's absolutely no way he can say no. Why would he say no? All that he ever wanted was the ability to protect, to save. Now he has it, and he's  _scared._ How pathetic.

 

"Go on," Magnus says. "Open it."

 

Raphael does, follows Magnus' orders and opens the folder. It reads:  _JACE WAYLAND._

 

He looks—what's the right word for this situation?  _Pretentious._ His blond hair is in a very interesting style, his leather jacket and gloves hug his frame a little bit too well. He's twenty three, 5'11, single, likes playing the piano, lives in Brooklyn, New York. 

 

Below his basic information, there's a section about his personality.

 

_IMPULSIVE, SOMEWHAT SUICIDAL, TROUBLEMAKER._

 

"You can't be serious," Raphael says. 

 

"Just give him a chance. You might end up liking him."

 

"I don't  _like_ anyone. I want someone else."

 

"He's the perfect fit for you," Magnus says. "Trust me, I know he seems - ah -  _strange,_ but he won't  _bite you._ "

 

"But—"

 

"Please," Magnus says, suddenly something along the lines of weak, and it all falls into place: this is personal. "I trust you with this, Raphael. Only you."

 

Silence.

 

"He's the brother of Alec Lightwood."

 

Oh. "I see," Raphael says. "Then I'll do it. But I won't try very hard. The minute he gets out of control..."

 

Magnus sighs. "The minute he gets out of control, I will give you a different assignment."

 

"Thank you."

 

He looks down at the table, away from Raphael. "Take the folder, it will tell you where he currently is on Earth. Good luck."

 

* * *

 

 

It takes Raphael an embarrassingly long time to figure out that, since he's only a being of energy, no one can see him.

 

Which is good, because—of all places to find Jace Wayland, it had to be a club.  _P a n d e m o n i u m,_ right in the sick heart of Brooklyn, New York. Jace Wayland moves his body like he's unsure of his motives here, like he's buried beneath bodies, gasping for air. Raphael can tell, by the way his eyes dart around the room, bright lights and loud music overwhelming him, that he knows he's in over his head.

 

This is new for both of them.

 

Part of Raphael wants to reach out and touch this Jace Wayland, pretentiousness and all, because it's been so  _long_ since he has touched. He hasn't touched anything real in decades, and Jace is  _real._ Jace Wayland is the closest thing to real that Raphael will ever

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

touch. Now that he is the way he is. Now that he's holy.

 

 

 

He tries to move closer but. He tries to move closer, _but._ Full-stop. Everything is holding him back, everything in his body turning into ropes around him. Two women approach Jace, wrap their arms around him. He read about one of them, short-dress, black hair, flower crown placed gently on her head - this is Isabelle, his sister. She looks warm. She looks like someone Raphael would have been friends with in his human life. He doesn't know the other one, but she's kissing Isabelle on the cheek, and then the neck, and then the shoulder. 

 

"Maia,  _stop,_ " she giggles. This must be Maia. They must be in love.

 

Raphael isn't very familiar with that— _love._ It's not something that you can touch. It's not something that holy beings feel.

 

Jace steps back. "Hey," he says, and his voice is rough, nothing like what Raphael expected. "Do I need to give you two some privacy?"

 

Maia rolls her eyes. Raphael understands the gesture; Jace is certainly  _something._

 

"No," Isabelle replies. "But you  _can_ get us some drinks."

 

"Coming right up," he says, and turns, backwards, into the vast sea of bodies.

 

* * *

 

 Jace doesn't go to get them drinks, doesn't do what he was told. Instead, he walks through the back door, right into the dark, cold night (Raphael _imagines_ it must be cold, imagines that Jace's body and heart are cold), sits down, and lights a cigarette.  

 

Raphael looks through his body; his lungs, expanding slowly, are pitch black. His bones seem very strong, his body seems very strong. Jace, himself, isn't strong.

 

He could go back up to Heaven and demand a new assignment. Jace Wayland is smoking, his lungs are the color of the sky, he's  _out of control._ But that would be bad. Raphael knows that he is bad. He doesn't need to become worse, thicker, more abhorrent. God never wanted him. And Jace is not strong; Raphael can feel the uncertainty radiate off of him, toxic. He sighs, and with his mind, creates a strong gust of wind that blows the cigarette right out of Jace's hand.

 

Jace only shrugs and retrieves another cigarette.

 

He is, most likely, the  _worst_ person Raphael has ever seen.

 

With a stronger gust of wind, he blows the entire pack of cigarettes off of the sidewalk. They both watch it tumble down the street like something lost.

 

"What the hell?" Jace asks, despite the fact that no one (else) is around.

 

"Smoking is bad for you, idiot," Raphael says, and—

 

Jace's head turns. He's looking right up at Raphael, right into his eyes, and for a moment Raphael thinks that Jace can see him, that he's human again, that this is just one long nightmare that he's waking up from, refreshed and with a heartbeat.

 

The feeling fades away when Jace looks away from him, scans the area. "Who said that?"

 

Jace can hear him. Do mortals hear their guardian angels? No one told him that it was possible. He feels like he can

 

 

 

touch. Again.

 

"Hello," Raphael says - it's sad, how scared the word comes out. One word full of emotion: sadness, intrigue, fear. Longing. 

 

"Simon, is that you? This isn't funny."

 

"Go get your sister and her -  _girlfriend?_ \- some drinks, instead of killing yourself slowly. Each one makes your life a little bit shorter, you know. Things would be easier for me if—"

 

Raphael stops. He's said too much.

 

_Things would be easier for me if you died._

 

_Things would be easier for me if you just behaved._

 

_Things would be easier for me if I didn't have to deal with you. How could Magnus do this to me._

 

"If what?"

 

"Just go," Raphael says.

 

"If  _what?_ Who are you?"

 

**"̧̭̠̣͓͙̱̖G̬͓͕ ͙̲̟̦̝͠O̗̮̖̜̜̯,"̨̹͎͚̥**

Raphael says monstrously, and oh,  _no,_ Jace is scared. Part of him thinks: good. Another part thinks:  _I am a demon with a halo. I don't want to hurt him. It was an accident. Accidents happen. Right?_

 

Jace stands up and goes. He doesn't try to fight. He just -  _goes._

 

* * *

 

 

He watches as Isabelle hugs him goodbye. He watches Isabelle tell her brother  _I love you._ It's been so long since Raphael has heard any kind of  _I love you._ Maia and Isabelle walk off, hand-in hand, and disappear into the darkness. I love you. I love you. It's been so long. Raphael thinks, for one small moment,  _can I be loved._ Then he rips out that part of him and burns it; Raphael is  _strong._ He isn't like Jace. He isn't human. He is something to be feared. He can never decay. Love is a decaying thing, it just  _ruins_ you.

 

At this point, the darkness in the sky is slowly melting into sunlight. He hasn't watched a sunrise in — too long. It's been so long. He follows Jace down the sidewalk, into his apartment. Jace's feet make noise on the shiny wood; he makes his way to his bedroom and falls face-down onto his bed.

 

The sun is completely up. Outside of Jace Wayland's bedroom window is everything that Raphael could've had.

 

So Raphael sits down next to him. If he could

 

 

 

touch, he would push Jace onto his back and tell him to go to sleep, to rest so Raphael can rest. But he can't 

 

 

 

touch, so he doesn't. Doesn't think about touching, because that would mean weakness, and Raphael is e v e r y t h i n g but he's not  _weak._

 

Jace breathes out. "Alec?" he calls, pushing himself up— _finally._ "You home?"

 

There's no response. This must be strange, because Jace calls again and again and again, over and over.  _Alec._

 

Alec Lightwood.

 

"I don't think he's home," Raphael says, stretching out on Jace's bed; he can't feel the softness of it, but he knows that it's there, remembers soft blankets and warm sheets. It has to be there. It just _has_ to be soft. 

 

"Wh— _again?_ "

 

"You're not crazy, if that's what you're thinking," Raphael tells him. "I don't even want to be here."

 

"Then _leave,_ " Jace says— _howls,_ monsterlike. Maybe they are similar, maybe Magnus was right, maybe.

 

"No can do," Raphael replies - sadly. He dreams about being anywhere but here. "I would if I could."

 

"Who are you?"

 

"Let's just say... I'm here to keep you from making stupid mistakes."

 

"I don't make stupid mistakes."

 

"Whatever you say."

 

"I  _don't._ "

 

Raphael smiles. If Jace could see this smile, he would—

 

Jace can't see him. Jace will never be able to see him.

 

Weaknesses like that don't matter. He is strong.

 

"I guess you could call me your guardian angel," Raphael says. "But the term  _guardian_ implies that I enjoy this, which I do not, so don't call me that."

 

"Guardian angel, huh?" Jace laughs, but it's not an amused laugh. It's a sad laugh, an empty laugh.

 

Oh.

 

Jace doesn't think he's  _worthy._

 

"Yes."

 

"Okay, guardian angel, where were you when my dad died? When the Lightwoods took me in? Hm?"

 

"That's not—that's not how it works. I was assigned to you recently."

 

"Yeah," Jace says. "I bet. I don't know why I'm hearing voices all of a sudden, but I know it needs to stop."

 

"I can prove it, I'm real."

 

"Oh, really? Okay, dazzle me."

 

Jace's expression changes when the lights in the room start flickering, when his curtains close, when the door flings itself shut. He looks scared again, just so  _scared._ He is worthy, Raphael decides ~~like a weakness.~~

 

"Are you dazzled?"

 

Jace's eyes close, open, close, open, close. "I -  _yeah._ Um. Okay. I..." 

 

"It's a lot to take in, I'm sure," Raphael says; he tries to make the tone of it bitter and mocking, but instead it comes out nearly sincere. Weakne

 

"What's your name?" asks Jace, so sudden that Raphael feels like falling from the sky, out of Heaven. Oh. Oh  _no._

 

"Raphael," he replies, and then, with disgusting blanket-softness, adds, "I would have saved your father. If I was around back then... if that helps."

 

"Thanks," Jace says. "Um. You have a nice name."

 

"Thank you," Raphael says, and with full weakness, he reaches over, hand hovering around Jace's shoulder, and

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _touches_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you think haha yeah


End file.
